Blurred Lines
by The Shiny Luxray
Summary: Harry woke up one morning, and with all of the suppressed opinions, finally decides that he's had enough. Going into fourth year with a new attitude and worldly view, our hero decides that it was high time he finished getting his Doctorate in Being a Badass. With the Shenanigans that ensue, Dumbledoor wonders what happened to the weapon he had been cultivating. AU, SLASH!, Rate M!
1. Chapter 1: You Never Had It So Good

**Hello One, Hello All who have decided to take the time out of their day to read this story. Prepare to be... well... amazed, it really depends on the person. Any who, this one may be under the Humor genre but it takes a while before it really gets going... around when the gang go back to Hogwarts. **

**Yes, this is SLASH! Be warned, if I get a flame saying 'WTF!? Are fucking blind or just fucking stupid? Faggotry is just disgusting and you should all go die because the Bible says so.' Like I see in so many different place, I'll greatly enjoy verbally reeming your ass until all of your morals need to be stripped away for inspection, your life and the way you live it is put into question, and you don't even really like who you are anymore now that all of your possible faults (personality-wise) are laid out before you for critiquing. Thank you~ **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the songs that appear in this story, or any references to other Anime, Books, Historical Figures, Comedians, Shows, Movies, or Manga. They all belong to their respective owners and I ensure you that I make absolutely no prophet from posting this story. I also dedicate this Lady Androgene, who is amazing funny with her works, I highly recommend her Katekyo Hitman REBORN story **_**You and Me Baby, Ain't Nothin But Mammals. **_**Hilariously funny with D80, 1827, 69Everyone, and 1880. Rated R for Ridiculousness... Hers is... Mine is rated M for Molestation... Poor Harry. **

**Now, onto Meat and Potatoes, I give you...!:**

_**Blurred Lines**_

_The title alone should be more than enough for you to realize the structural integrity of this story... I highly recommend you seek out a doctor if your mind's eye is still weeping longer than one week after this story. Enjoy. Rated M for Molestation (large possiblity)._

**Chapter 1: You Never Had It So Good**

_Pack your bags real good; you'll be gone for a while. _

**Song of the Chapter: **So Good - B.O.B

* * *

Harry Potter laid awake in his room late at night... er... early in the morning now. That nightmare had been odd and had made his scar burn, which didn't really surprise him anymore. Everything made his scar burn as though it were a brand; seeing Snape in a tutu doing a lapdance would make his scar burn (not to mention his eyes melt from their sockets and his mind completely collapse). He 'tsked' in annoyance as he turned his head to the side, long hair (he had styled it after some fellow called Tensa from a Japanese Show named Bleach) splaying across the pillow in waves and spikes of jet black.

He reached for his glasses (frameless rectangular lenses and a new perscription from Sirius for his birthday) and put them on, sitting up as the sun rose from the sky. Sun was up, and that means he could continue his job of being the human house elf for his relatives who ate too much, dieted obsessively, and probably had anal seepage from all the Red Bulls they drank. He shuddered, best not think thoughts that made his brain shudder... it wasn't at all pleasant.

He threw the sheets from his waist, opening the window for Hedwig when she brought back _The Daily Prophet _and his friends' responses. Tucking a music player with a magic implant that played whatever song he wanted whenever he wanted to listen to it (a gift from Hermione; he had given her a book about the structuring of spells and wands written by some distinguished wand-maker in return), he put in his headphones and padded across the room.

Nowadays, Dudley the Diabetic's clothing was simply too large for him (he had finally achieved that goal of being wider than he was tall that he'd been working towards his entire life... the reality that he could make stupid and fat jokes was just peachy for Harry). So in light of the premonition he had late into his third year of Hogwarts Education (one in which he had been looking into the legend of Moby Dick and had instead seen Dudley flopping about in the water roaring that he wanted more candy), he had gone to Hogsmeade and bought outfits (dress shirts, loose and fitted jeans, jackets, shoes, sandals, shorts, tanktops, and the like) in order to last him the winter (summer). After all, he didn't have the insulation that Dudley did in the form of pure blubber.

Today, he pulled on a pair of stylishly fitted jeans with a striped white and silver loose tanktop with a black belt around his hips. Tying most of his hair (with the exception of the hair framing his face that wouldn't go into a ponytail) back, he opened his bathroom door. Brushing his teeth, washing his face, taking a piss, and washing his hands, he paused as he was about to leave.

His emerald eyes stared back at him. At fourteen years old, Harry considered himself fairly intelligent (Snape would have vehemently disagreed if he knew), and he trusted his intuition. His intuition was almost always right, although it usually led him on the path that had most people think of him as some self-sacrificing martyr for the Light. He wasn't... he just had morals and followed them. That gut feeling flared and he knew that if ignored those dreams, it would bite him in the ass. A lot of things bit him in the ass, he considered the thought. Biting... perhaps he should finish up becoming an Animagus... then he might be able to bite his own ass. Food for thought.

He sighed, wearily opening the door and stepping into the hallway, his relatives were still asleep if the wailing and neighing were any indication, and would stay that way for while. Meaning, that he could get his chores done, do his summer work, and pack up before the Weasley Family showed up to collect him. He certainly didn't think he'd be going to such a large Quidditch event when Ron had first suggested it, but Pigwigeon's letter had stated differently. In fact, he was lucky to even be able to go... Merlin knew his Uncle would fly into a rage; yelling, screaming, throwing things, accusing, and throwing his body weight around so much that an Earthquake in Russia would be recorded.

Which wouldn't really matter short-term because he wouldn't have to see them for almost a year. Long-term, however, was a different story. Harry didn't really like the thought of being locked in his room with bars on his windows and locks on his door being fed cold soup through a cat-flap in the door. It was a detested thought and he was severely lucky that the Weasleys had been there to bail him out of his, very literal, jail cell. _That's not entirely true; prisoners get better food than I did... _He scathed as he entered the kitchen and began to pull out his ingredients.

Eggs were set on the sparkling counter, bacon strips set on a plate, bread package opened, grapefruits set out, jam next to them, and potatoes (around nine) washed and peeled before they were boiled. Deft fingers cracked the eggs into a clear bowl before whisking the yolks and white together expertly. A pan was heated and bacon laid atop it... the sizzling of grease filling the air with sound and the smell of frying pig permeating the kitchen. As he waited on the potatoes, he popped the bread into the toaster after it was slathered in butter and sliced the grapefruits in half.

The bacon was flipped and the potatoes drained in a colander before he took a knife and began shredding them to make Hash-browns. He paused to add cheese to the mixture of eggs and stir it in before taking the bacon out an putting it on a plate as he placed the shredded potatoes on the pan with vegetable oil to cook them it.

The toast popped up and he placed globs of jam in their centers before arranging them on another plate and setting it on the small circular dining table in the breakfast room. The grapefruits soon followed and Harry moved back to the stove and began managing the eggs, adding in a dash of Creole seasoning to spice it up and small amounts of milk to fluff them up. When those were done they were placed in a small bowl and put on the table. By now the hash-browns were finishing up, so he placed ketchup, salt, pepper, plates, silverware, and glasses on the table with orange juice in them. Napkins neatly folding into triangles. The Hash-browns were placed in a bowl and put down as well. He quickly gathered the jam and butter before placing the dirty pans in the sink to be washed later.

Chicken was taken out for dinner later as Petunia had instructed and Harry turned and began washing the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher before hurrying out to do the gardening-

"I must say, Potter." That soft, subtly threatening voice caused him to freeze as Severus Snape appeared out of a shadow. "You made yourself such a nice breakfast... one worthy of a celebrity." He noted duly, Harry sighed. The only thing he ate was a grapefruit (it should be the resident whales, but tell horse-face _that _and she might hoof him in the ass).

"Professor, as much as I enjoy your classes and never ending torment of me for a morally arbitrary factor that I have no control of, why are you in my relatives' house?" The raven asked, grabbing a rag and cleaning the stove before putting a kettle on with water heating.

"The Headmaster sent me to collect you for the Weasleys, as Muggle houses are restricted from being connected to the Floo Network; surely you should know this, Potter." The man stated, leaning against a counter, watching with a critical eye as his student gathered a cup and place a tea bag, one cube of sugar, and bit of vanilla and cinnamon into the bottom of a cup before pouring sufficiently heated water into the cup and stirring before putting milk into it and offering the cup to the Potions Master.

Snape took it cautiously and eyed the boy as he washed the kettle. "I really wouldn't. I don't bother with the corrupt politics of Ministry, and am Muggle-raised," _Fuck that, he was enslaved, _"And I never really knew the limitations of the Floo Network." He shrugged, "I'm hardly able to even let Hedwig out, lest it seem unnatural and strange." He recited, listening as the wailing and neighing ceased.

"_Boy!" _And it began, first with the elephant of man stomping down the stares, just as he always did, and just as he did every morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of food. And he then turned into the fattest race-horse Harry had ever seen in his life, galloping to the table and beginning to eat. Snape was ignored.

Petunia meandered in afterwords, Dudley waddling awkwardly behind her. Soon the sounds of eating filled the establishment, though Petunia only had some eggs and a grapefruit. Harry sighed and put a bowl of grapes in front of her. The woman, though annoying, was detrimental to her own health, and Harry couldn't help but worry about it. She thanked him with a flicker of a glance.

Harry stepped back, measuring out Vernon's arm length before standing a foot outside of it (just in case he decided he wanted to grab him by the neck like when he was eleven), Snape rose a brow. "Right, the Weasleys aren't going to be able to come-"

"Shame, that." Vernon muttered around bacon, not looking up, "Well, at least you'll have stuff to do while we wait out the rest of summer." He snapped waspishly, face beginning to manifest it's puce shade that Harry had come to associate only with Vernon.

"-If you would have bothered to look up, you'd know that they sent someone else to get me, and that we were about to leave. The chicken's de-thawing, house is clean, yard work complete, breakfast made, and lunch in the fridge. You can start fending for yourselves tomorrow." He stated airily, shoving his hands in his pockets. _And they'll explode in 3... 2... 1... Boom! _

"WHAT THE _HELL _DO YOU THINK THIS IS?!" Vernon roared, face now a plum shade and his temple vein pulsating like an anaconda. "A-"

Harry looked at him evenly, "Well, we both know the answer is not a _freak show. _" He stated, eyeing the fork that his uncle's pudgy fingers clutched at with trepidation. "Professor Snape agreed to bring me to the Burrow." He stated.

Beady eyes fixated on the man in black who stood with his arms crossed and hip against the counter, black robes fluttering like shadows around him. Vernon spluttered, Petunia had gone pale, but Harry urged her to continue eating grapes as he placed an eating schedule for her on the table. Snape regarded them coolly, but paused to wander why the whale of a boy had his hands clutched over his bottom and was edging in a strange waddle to a corner.

Harry huffed, watching his uncle stand, as though it would help. "IF YOU THINK-"

"I don't think anything. You agreed to allow me to go to the Burrow this summer and to go to the Quidditch World Cup, the agreement was made and will be fulfilled. I will be leaving and we'll be rid of one another for almost another year." Harry stated easily, "Who ever comes and retrieves me to take me to the Burrow should be of no consequence to you."

Vernon's mustache blew hither and thither as he fought the raging urge to choke out his nephew, which Harry had come to know was a common fantasy of his uncle's. "Fine, boy. Do whatever the hell you want to. Just don't come back until next year." Petunia nodded, not looking up from her bowl of grapes as she perused a magazine.

Harry nodded, leaving Severus briefly to send Hedwig to the Burrow with promises he would be there soon, she had nipped his finger but had cooed softly as she left in a flurry of feathers. Harry had then packed up everything he could into his trunk (which had a small extendable charm on it) and left the room neat, as though he had never been there.

Harry backtracked and grabbed a silver cross that had once belonged to his mother, it was silver with blue inside and a thin ring hanging in front of it, putting the small braided chain around his neck. He smiled before hurrying back down the stairs, slim black shoes in hand and black socks on his feet.

Snape had finished his tea and had his magic cleaning the cup and putting it up. "Ready, Potter?" He drawled, looking down at the boy, who smiled, tucking his wand into his pocket.

"Whenever you are, Professor." He followed the man to the living room, where the dark man stopped.

"Put on your shoes." Harry nodded, stepping into them, "Grab my arm, brace yourself, and if you puke on me, I'll give you so many detentions your joints will disintegrate from all the cauldron scrubbing." He warned, huffing as Harry merely grabbed his arm.

A loud crack and the strangest sensation of being squashed through a tube of toothpaste after a heavy lunch along with feeling his equilibrium being set off balance, and Harry's feet found purchase on the ground before gravity and inertia took their toll and he tipped over. "Uagh..." He fought the urge to upchuck the grapefruit and sucked in deep breaths as his head righted itself... "Never ever doing that again..." He muttered to himself, shaking off most of the vertigo.

Snape was less than amused, but he appeared fine that Harry didn't puke at all and knocked on the back door of the rickety house. Shouting could be heard and a plump, red-headed woman with fiery hazel eyes smiled at Harry, pulling him into a crushing hug that radiated so much estrogen and maternal love that Harry found himself struggling to breath. "Oh! Harry, how have you been dear?" She asked, pulling away, "You look a bit peaky... but we'll fix that right up." She cheered.

"I'm quite alright, Mrs. Weasley." He assured, "Just a bad case of vertigo... and motion sickness." He explained, feeling a little green around the gills at the flurry of movement in the room behind the Weasley Matriarch.

Snape nodded, "Molly." He acknowledged, before disapparating with a resounding crack. Harry almost puked at the thought of going through the apparition again.

Molly Weasley sighed at the Potions Master before leading Harry inside. "C'mon dear. Everyone's been waiting on you!" She smiled.

* * *

The Weasley family never failed to ensure that Harry felt as though he wasn't completely alone in the world. Even if he did sometimes wonder if Ginny stalked him; or if the twins were evil geniuses. Other than that, Bill was like the cool older brother he never had, Percy was like the overbearing male version of Hermione, and Charlie worked with Dragons (how fucking awesome, right?). They were all lovable to Harry, they were all like his family. Sometimes, Harry wished he could just come to the Burrow instead of Private Drive for the Summer Holidays.

They air they breathed was saturated in magic, the trees grew with it, the house teemed with it in every single nook and cranny and Harry loved it. The feel of it; it was as though he were back at Hogwarts. Though perhaps it was because he had always been so magically deprived as a child and now that he had spent time where there were large quantities of it, he had grown addicted to it. The Weasleys didn't understand because they were always around magic, so they couldn't become addicted to it because it had always been there. For Harry... he likened it to nicotine.

The time difference between Little Whinging and wherever the hell the Burrow was situated meant that he had completely missed lunch... which was fine by him. He had done most of his homework (to Molly's absolute delight), and had insisted on helping her cook. The clacking of Bill and Charlie's table war outside drew Harry's attention and he stepped out and leaned against the door frame as he watched the wooden pieces of furniture have an aerial battle.

The door on one of the middle floors opened, Percy's voice floating through the Midsummer's air. "Could you two please keep it down! I am doing important work for the Ministry!" He called, causing his elder brothers to snort in time with the twins, Percy's face flushed.

"Pffft... yeah, great job on that!" Bill called, snickering.

Charlie tilted his head, "How are those Cauldron Bottoms coming along?" He asked, smirking as the window shut with a decisive clack. Percy had had enough of his brothers' teasing.

To Harry, it was like watching the twins torment Hermione at school all over again. Which, to him, was really sort of ironic. He hadn't even seen Hermione except for a passing glimpse of the girl watching her kneazle cat hunt the gnomes while reading the book Harry had given her, diagrams surrounding her. Harry had already read the book and knew she was using the information to draw diagrammatic structures of spells and wands.

The battle, however, ended as Bill and Charlie set the tables down and began to set and repair them. Hermione setting up shop and drawing more diagrams, Crookshanks settling in her lap and watching her work, even appearing to occasionally help. Harry shook his head and wandered back into the kitchen, beginning to mash potatoes and add in garlic, butter, parsley, and basil, along with some milk for fluffiness. The Pumpkin Pie was pulled from the oven and the Coconut Cream Pie from the freezing cupboard. The large Turkey, stuffing, and the Chicken Pot Pies all filing out with the mashed potatoes and pies floating after them.

Harry walked out to sit between the twins, Ron sitting with Ginny and Hermione, only to be pulled between Charlie and Bill. "Sooooo... Harry." Charlie began, smirking at the emerald eyed fourteen year old.

Bill picked it up, "Are you excited for the Cup?" He asked, tilting his head, looking at the Gryffindor Seeker in interest. Of course they would want his opinion, ever since he had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, they had been undefeated (save against Hufflepuff last year).

"Yes, after reviewing the prospects... Ireland will win." Harry stated, smiling serenely as Ron spluttered, Molly was quick to admonish him about wasting food and rudeness, leaving his friend embarrassed.

"But Bulgaria's got Krum!" He stated, as though that fixed everything. The twins looked like they were most disappointed in their youngest brother.

Fred sighed, "Oh Ronnikins ("Don't call me that!"), Bulgaria's got one good player-"

"But Ireland's got seven~!" George ended, smirking as they continued their debate with Ron. Ginny hopping in every now and then. Percy and Authur talking Ministry Business with Hermione interjecting her information every now and then. Molly was ragging on Bill and Harry to allow her to trip their hair.

"Just a trim." She wheedled, magicking a pair of scissors from the malletspace that was usually reserved for Anime heroines to store large hammers or bazookas in. That meant those scissors were a dangerous threat. Harry shook his head in fear, clutching at the soft silky strands as they they were his babies.

"N-no thank you Mrs. Weasley..." Harry scooted slightly away from her, he and Bill huddling away from her as far as possible.

"Mom, I like my hair the way it is." Bill stated, tiredly picking at his pie under his mother's protests.

"What do the people at work say?" She asked, trying to instill reason in her eldest son.

Bill rolled his eyes tiredly, "No one at Gringotts gives a damn what I look like as long as I bring in plenty of gold and continue breaking curses." He argued back, sighing in relief when Molly turned to Ginny and began talking, Bill fingered his hair. "I'd rather not have my hair an inch from my scalp." He muttered darkly, glancing at his mother.

Dinner, overall, was a pleasant affair. Until Hermione and Percy got into a heated debate over Ministry Politics. "I'm saying that the system is corrupt, your precious Minister is just incompetent-"

"Minister Fudge is not _incompetent, _he's a brilliant leader and works for the greater good-"

"Calling that puppet brilliant is like calling Snape effeminate-" Harry shuddered at the mental image that he had just that morning of his Potions Professor in a tutu, but this time with make up and hair pinned up. Some of the Weasley's gave him concerned glances.

"Which has nothing to do with corruption-"

"It is as plain as day when you really review the policies the man tried to pass."

"And who helped catch Sirius Black?"

"While also stationing dementors at a school where underage wizards are trying to achieve an education, which the Ministry has no proper value for at all!"

"Which is a good thing, because he got in the school-"

"-And the dementors did nothing about it, but attack the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Seekers in the middle of a Quidditch Match-"

"They were protecting the school, on the Ministry's order-"

"-Proving that the system is corrupt."

"I beg to differ-"

"Another example: they did nothing but try to shut down Hogwarts when the Basilisk was on the loose-"

"-A good choice if it hadn't been killed-"

"-The point that they didn't even try to catch it is even more disturbing-"

"-Yes, well the Ministry isn't exactly filled with everyone as wonderful as Fudge-"

"Which is a brilliant thing, or else our government would have collapsed of sheer idiocy!" Percy looked ready to explode after Hermione got the last word over him

The two scholars harrumphed and turned away, Ron appeared to despair. "I knew this would happen if they ever talked to one another! Ugh... My head hurts." He muttered, laying his head on the table.

Harry nodded while the twins, Bill, and Charlie watched the two intellects' minds clash over some other policy before they all filed away to bed, Harry stayed outside, peering at the stars with critical eyes before sighing.

"I should take a shower..." He muttered, trudging inside.


	2. Chapter 2: Cinderella Man

**Back again with the second update; for those of you who asked about pairings, I will be posting a poll after this chapter is posted and you can vote (I secretly root for Gellert/Harry. That man was a sexy beast when James Campbell played him… MM MM MM~!) afterwards. **

**But as I am a philanthropist, you guys get the ultimate say in the pairings~. For my three new favorite people (Ebru Raveniz Gunduz Lestrange, 917brat, and RebeliousOne you guys get to request dialogue situations (within reason for the plot… which is far out of reason) and I'll work them into the story. This is open for the next seven of you who review because I'd like to reward my first ten reviewers~. **

**Anywho, onto the story, which shall include… the QUIDDITCH CUP, somewhatSEME!Draco, DEVIOUS!Twins, and other things that make this a lot like… DRRR! But… that's okay… it just lacks an Izaya (actually… not it doesn't…) and a Shizuo (better yet…) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the songs that appear in this story, or any references to other Anime, Books, Historical Figures, Comedians, Memes, Shows, Movies, or Manga. They all belong to their respective owners and I ensure that I make absolutely no prophet from posting this story. I also would like to dedicate this to my first ten reviewers (c'mon you guys, ya know ya wanna~ DO IT FOR BROCK OBAMA!)**

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**_Blurred Lines_**

_We have already been over the structural integrity of this story. The past threat to those of you who do not agree with SLASH applies. If your mind's eye is still weeping and blind after reading this, might I suggest an Optometrist? Or Trylawny…_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Mediocrity Can No Longer Be Allowed To Fly**

_Consider it his last hurrah, Coup de Grace._

**Song of the Chapter: **Cinderella Man – EMINEM

* * *

It was the next day that they awoke at precisely five o'clock in the morning (Ron actually got to sleep until five-thirty simply because he wouldn't wake up), Harry actually felt numb. Although that might be due to the fact that he hadn't had great sleep and the sun wasn't even up yet. The time difference pretty much ensured that he was off of his normal schedule and extremely groggy (he didn't even have the energy to do much past his morning routine, besides grab a couple pieces of bacon on the way out the door). His hair was in more disarray than it normally was, spiking wildly and falling around his face in such a way that he finally gave up and tied it back in a small ponytail (it didn't last very long as most of his wouldn't go in). He wore a pair of black jeans, over nondescript black boots over them, three belts of maroon twined around his waist with a slim cloth to the right hanging off of them. Three buckles were situated on the left pant leg. With his cross around his neck, and a slim white v-neck t-shirt on under a red and white striped sleeveless dress shirt with a pocket and a popped collar that was buttoned low down, he trudged through the humid morning.

The Weasleys weren't affected by the weather in the least, Hermione's hair was considerably less frizzy, but Harry's own was sticking out even more, and it annoyed him as it fell in his Avada Kedavra green eyes. The Wizarding Saviour felt as though he was (essentially) walking around blind. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he trudged up the hill. His earphones blasted out some random song… some song about shaking. It wasn't that bad, if it didn't constantly distract him from the hole-

His eyes widened as his stomach lurched while his body tipped forward, landing roughly with a sharp whoosh of air leaving his lungs upon impact. "Uagh…" He breathed, quickly hurrying to his feet (stumbling with a case of motion sickness), the twins walking near him snickering. He grumbled, "It's too early for this." He continued walking… but only managed to get a couple of feet before he found himself on the ground once again.

His eyes closed as he willed the world to stop moving for a minute. However, with his eyes closed he grew tired, and he started to think that he just might get some wonderful sleep on the soft green grass that carpeted the ground. Ron called to him to hurry up, if he couldn't go back to bed, then neither could Harry. Green eyes squinted shut in protest, "'m tired…" He groaned, yawning heavily. "'ll be back in five short m'nutes." He negotiated (though he did not register that there was nothing to negotiate about), not conscious of the incredulous stares as he set about promptly closing his eyes.

"Bill, you get to carry him-" There was Fred; he wondered if they had any coffee. He could use a coffee, he was soooo tired. He could just lay out and have a nap… and those crickets and birds that could be heard barely above his music was soothing. He might have mouthed the words (or even sung) if he wasn't so tired.

"-You got long hair like 'im." George finished the sentence in a way that had their elder brother spluttering at how that was utter nonsense. It wasn't until the time was mentioned that Harry felt himself be lifted onto a back, chin coming to rest on a surprisingly sturdy shoulder. Harry wondered what having long hair had to do with him getting a piggy back ride but decided that was definitely not worth asking the twins about, considering the fact that it was probably something so embarrassing that he'd blush a deeper red than Ron's hair. That in itself was an accomplishment that he should be able to receive an award for (besides his sharp wit and notorious survival skills).

Harry opened his eyes blearily as Bill began walking, he figured that he'd be levitated (just the thought made him feel phantom motion sickness). "Oh… hello." He stated, lazily sliding his eyes over to the long-haired red-head, who was walking with deceptive ease, Harry knew that Bill had to be really strong to carry him with no problem. He shifted back to look forward, lulling into sleep and out again as they slowly made their ways up the holey hill. Seriously, just how many bunnies did they even have around here? Upon thinking about the sheer amount of bunnies that must be lurking in them, with all of their relatives, Harry decided that the investigation to find out for sure was not worth the effort that he might have normally put into it. Maybe when he was more awake (he didn't register that they were not going to be near the Burrow for at least a day).

Deciding as he was already in a semi-meditative state, he took Sirius's advice. Being an Animagus might just be useful in the future, he'd take this time to clear his mind and focus on his primal instincts. Not his human ones, but more basic than that. Every human had a form that was an animal, something they were the closest to, and it was that animal that animagus' tended to connect with intimately over a few months to begin the transforming processes. Harry had been at it for quite a while (one month before school ended for third year).

He felt his face smooth itself of lines, the air suddenly seemed to run through him with serenity that he had never known he could feel when he was younger, his breathing evened and he drew within himself with practiced ease. Snow whirred past his form, he was crouched on a frost covered rock, peering down at the prey that busied itself below. His claws flexed in anticipation as his tail lashed, and then he leapt. His fangs sank into the flesh of the prey, green eyes alight with success as he-

"Ah! Arthur, how good to see you!" A voice cut through his meditation and Harry twitched awake at the intrusion. His bright green eyes, alight with the keen light seen in most alley cats that vanished as soon as it appeared, opened with a snap and fixating on the two new guests. From his perch on Bill's back, who was easy going enough to not care that he was carrying the raven-haired teen, Harry observed the scene as it unfolded, watching as a younger youth dropped down from the tree gracefully from a thick branch. Thin arms shifted slightly around the long-haired Weasley's neck as Harry regarded the Hufflepuffs, like every rightful Gryffindor would (as they were now; Gryffindors were a pride of large cats, meaning that any newcomers were assessed and evaluated upon meeting them).

Amos Diggory was very plump with wavy brown hair and a jolly nature about him. His round glasses close to the ones Harry used to wear. He also reminded Harry of a British Santa Clause with less red and white, what with that twinkle in blue eyes, the rosy cheeks, and laugh lines. He was a far cry from Sirius; it was hard to remember they were (technically) the same age. Although Sirius was something of a bad-boy in the Wizarding World (never mind escaped convict – though really innocent), Amos was what Harry would consider to be one of the Wizarding World's good children. He was one of the citizens that always abides by the law, listened to and believed everything the Ministry said, and worked for the government; Harry was initially displeased with the assessment, a far difference from Percy's (the boy was beaming so bright that it was blinding him.)

Hermione was rolling her eyes at the scholar's behavior. Harry sighed at the innate rivalry the two seemed to have for one another. Although the genius usually relied on authority figures, she knew what was corruption and what wasn't; why she liked Dumbledoor so much was the good he tried to do for society with the bills that the Ministry kept Executive Vetoing. She stated that although Politics was filled with very many bloodsucking creatures (those things you see walking around in suits with fancy clothes and a sneer on their face that could curdle freshly pasteurized milk *cough* Lucius Malfoy *cough*), that was no reason not to try and find those who weren't corrupt and support them. Harry had to hand it to her, she knew her way around the legal system pretty well.

As Amos approached Arthur, arm extended as they shook hands like old friends (they probably were), Arthur beamed, "Amos, how was the trip?" He asked, kindly. He showed a wonderful case of selective hearing as he ignored the twins' mutters of how they hoped it was terrible. "Not too many problems?" Again that wonderful hearing that ignored Fred wishing that they splinched.

Amos shook his head and laughed and Harry wondered how adults could just tune all the kids out because he just didn't get it, "Nothing me and Ced here couldn't handle in a jiffy." He stated, patting what had to be his son on the back, the tall Hufflepuff Seventh Year smiling at all of them and receiving them in turn (though the twins were still dubious at their loss, Charlie and Bill didn't know them, and Harry was really tired and groggy). Ginny and Hermione were blushing and giggling together like Harry supposed girls were supposed to do. But he assumed that perhaps it was because of the handsome teenager's arrival. Ron was amicable and Percy was stiff as he continued talking with the other two Ministry workers.

Not that he could blame them, but he focused more on getting as much out of the piggy-back he was getting as possible. He wasn't exploiting Bill or anything, he just wanted to get some internal housekeeping done, find the pesky pet that was hiding beneath the couch just out of reach so that he could transform into it. Not that he had any problems walking now that there weren't any more bunny-making holes everywhere… ugh… that just sounded nasty. He shuddered and snuggled closer to Bill, he didn't want to get down anytime soon. Bill readjusted and leaned on his hip as Amos surveyed the group altogether, his java colored gaze raking over them in a scrutiny of a badger.

"My goodness, Arthur, all these yours?" He asked in awe, Harry twitched slightly as he (quite literally) felt the emotion permeate the air in sickening thickness. That was nasty, why would he be thinking about how often the Weasley Heads had sex? Harry felt himself go green at the though and snuggled closer again. The man whistled in appreciation, causing Arthur to turn a bright Merlot.

"Ah… no." Arthur assured color falling from his face, "These three are my eldest. Charlie works with Dragons, Bill's a curse breaker, and Percy just got a job in the Ministry." He stated, "My sixth year sons, Fred and George-"

"No Dad-" They leaned towards one another, twin Cheshire cat grins situated on their faces

"Honestly, we have to tell Mum all the time-" One despaired, looking like his father had just shot his puppy right in front of him.

"I'm Fred-" The other said, before looking at the other.

"And I'm George. Or wait… wasn't I Fred?" His twin asked, they looked at each other for compensation.

"Ugh… no… I'm Fred…. Or was I George?" They appeared to be comically confused (Harry himself had his head spinning rapidly as he tried to sort on from the other).

"Hmmm… this is an interesting debacle…" Thing one muttered to himself, placing his hand on a chin.

"I'd consider it more a conundrum." Thing two placed a hand on his twin's shoulder, shaking his head, as though defeated after a long day of work.

Harry looked at them before turning to Arthur, "Why not just get collars?" He asked, blinking in surprise as Arthur waved that suggestion away with surprising quickness. Now that Harry looked closer, he did look kind of pale….

"We already tried that… they switched them, lost them, or fought over them; caused more chaos than good." He shrugged as he turned back to Amos and resuming his introductions, "And then we have my youngest son, Ronald, and my daughter, Ginny." The two waved, "And then Ron's friend Hermione, and Harry, also a friend of Ron's."

Bill grinned impishly, "He'd be asleep in a field filled with rabbit holes if we hadn't picked him up-" Harry protested, sleepily.

"'t's not m' fault that m' feet k'pt gettin' caught in the bunny-r'production holes…" Harry muttered, harrumphing halfheartedly and was shaken awake by both Bill's laughter and Amos's surprised exclamation of "The HARRY POTTER!" Which had been yelled at the top of his voice and left Harry slightly bored and definitely not amused about his reputation (which proceeded to remain an annoyance that he sorely wished to do without).

Of course, it was all normal for Harry, but poor Cedric and Bill were rubbing their ringing ears. Arthur and the rest were already turning away to continue walking up the hill, looking for the port key. Something rustic and old… a muggle won't pick up. Harry watched as Ginny found it with a minute to spare from his very comfortable position atop Bill's back. Charlie was grinning in amusement as Harry began to braid the Curse Breaker's hair.

But as they clutched the mangy old boot, Harry had to wonder what muggles would think if they walked past them, a group of teens, most of them red-heads and obviously related (anyone who couldn't see or infer that needed help or to be put in the hospital for brain trauma), some legal adults and two older men clutching at a boot that looked as though it were at least five centuries old. Best not. His feelings were delicate after all.

Something in him froze in shock (he didn't even know what it was) as a tug on his naval pulled and then they were gone, disappearing in a quick flash. His instincts (those he was sure definitely didn't belong to a human) had him letting go of the boot and flying through the air, passing a weightlessly floating Amos and Arthur. Both were mildly surprised as Harry landed easily, crouching next to Bill as the Curse Breaker shook his head and righted himself. Harry rose out of crouch as the frozen instincts kicked into gear, and suddenly he felt wary as he peered around at where they had been transported to.

The light in his eyes flashed sharply in the bright sunlight as they flickered around the large moor that stretched before him. Too many people were crowded in such a small area and it made the wizard antsy. A chap wearing a woman's ultraviolet nightgown wandered past, his slipper covered feet shuffling through the grass as he walked deeper into the campsites. It reminded Harry of that time when he awoke to find that his hair was white and angel wings had been fixated on his back with a matching halo above his head. All of his clothes were white and 'angelic' that befitted 'the light.' He had never lived it down. Dumbledoor hadn't understood what the problem was, but Harry had died everything black and ordered new clothes and the old headmaster had talked to him about teenage rebellion for about a week, before deciding to revoke the ridiculous angel gear.

Harry turned his attention to Arthur as the man finally managed to sort out the right amount of money, laying the bills on the table after receiving their campsite location. The raven haired teen noticed that they were very close to the stadium that sat atop another hill. It was huge and grand and actually set into the hill, the part that sat atop it was the top of the stadium.

His sentiments of awe were pretty well shared throughout the group.

* * *

They marched their ways through the rows of tents before finally managing to get to their own tent. It had been a long walk and Harry found himself often squished with Charlie as navigated the thick crowds. Harry remembered wondering how they could possibly be so many people fit into such small tents after watching a bus load file out of a two man tent.

He resolved to never ask such a stupid question ever again. Ever. The tent was extended and resembled a four star hotel room (not counting the bunk beds) and was furnished nicely, giving the girls their own room and the boys two different ones while Arthur took the master for himself. Harry wished his cupboard had this kind of extension… that was comfortable living (he might be able to work a smaller version to make his room larger). The Weasley Patriarch explained that it was complex magic that was usually the result of runes.

Harry resolved to begin studying all of the runes that he could get his hands on during Divination (that class was a load of waffle anyway). All he had to do was predict the most horrendous ways in which he would die (an extensively morbid creativity class was what he considered it to be) and write them in his dream journal and he'd receive an O. Easy Peasy. If only Potions was as simplistic (unfortunately not anymore now that he had allowed his professor's enemy from his school days to escape from his pale grasp after knocking him out with a quintupled expelliarmus. Luckily, Dumbledoor realized that it wasn't intentional (mostly), and he had been saved for expulsion.

Harry now found himself sitting outside with an Ancient Runes book in the heat of the day reading while Arthur spoke of the many different positions in the Ministry with Hermione. His kids had already heard it, so Fred and George were working on new experiments with diagrams and galleon figures. Ginny and Ron had gone to go get water from the spout twenty acres away, Bill was looking in interest at the spell diagrams Harry had drawn, while Charlie reviewed a letter from Romania about the statuses of the dragons on the preserve. He looked in slight interest at the varying ethnicity of passing wizards (he had not thought about wizards from other nations) before resuming his runes.

He only stopped when Ginny and Ron came back, both telling him that Seamus and his Grandmother were here to support Ireland. Harry had stated that the news was great and that he knew that Ireland was going to win. Ron had turned purple and started preaching about Bulgaria (Krum)'s superiority and at how Ireland was going down. Harry had stopped listening half-way through and was once again meditating.

* * *

The sun had set when he was finished and he had grinned when food was ready only to cut his tongue on his sharp canines (he had puzzled before resolving not to smile at anyone for the entirety of the Quidditch Cup) and had to smile sheepishly and explain that he bit his tongue. They had all bought the excuse seamlessly (Harry had begun to worry about if any more noticeable signs had appeared; nearly shrieking in the bathroom at the slightly darker lining around his eyes, pencil thin tracings of distinctly cat-like marks around his eyes). Harry had breathed a sigh of relief.

Sirius had told him of the slow transitioning that occurred when becoming an animagus (accompanied with a distinctly funny story of how James had grown horns and had to relay that he had a contagious muggle sickness and it was best if he stayed in his room. Sirius had grown a major hankering for meat and tilting his head at questions). He would slowly grow intertwined with the animal that was inside him as it forced its way to the surface. Sirius suggested keeping a low profile and told him his patronus (lovingly dubbed Prongs) might change shape, or it might not, depending on the situation.

He would just have to keep as low of a profile as possible, the less attention attracted towards him the better, the last thing he needed was to be found out by someone like Malfoy who would make him look like a fool while he dangled his secret over him like a tantalizingly tasty-looking fish… oh that might be part of the transition. He threw on a fluffy white scarf around his neck in hopes of diverting eyes away from his mouth, in case the canines were insanely conspicuous. Harry wondered over to a Japanese stand and bought nearly their entire supply of both tuna and salmon in one sitting, hefting the bag with him as he ate it slowly.

Hermione raised a brow but he explained he never really had a lot of fish, brightening her up. "Oh yes!" She exclaimed, "I read that if you are lacking certain vitamins or amino acids that your body will begin craving certain things. That's why women who are pregnant have strange cravings. You must have a lack of Omega 3 and your body's compensating by making you crave the source: fish!" She looked positively radiant now that she had displayed knowledge that left the other Weasley's with question marks hanging above their heads.

Harry alone understood though. He hadn't eaten enough fish, so he needed to eat more. He stuck another piece of spicy maguro sushi in his mouth as he wondered to a crayfish standing and buying bunches of those as well. He was just really craving seafood; he resolved to just one more stand and bought a large amount of snow crab meat, he actually bought out the entire stand. The man was left looking happily at a bag of galleons while Harry meandered to rejoin the Weasleys; munching on the different pieces of food as he went along.

The crowds got particularly bad, especially when entering the stadium from their path, although Harry bought Ron and Bill Omnioculars and got a little silver shining solution for his cross (it was actually a little wipe that he immediately used, smiling contentedly at the now beautifully shining silver. He blinked when he came face to face with the Malfoys, with a mouth full of crab. Swallowing, he looked warily between the warring families, Bill looking down at Draco with a raised brow as the blonde sneered.

"He's got some fire in him." He noted, shoving his hands into his pockets, Harry shrugged, biting down on a piece of sushi. "I mean, damn. And I thought Mum had a barbed tongue." He whistled, peering at the raven haired fourteen year old before stealing a crawfish from the extendable bag that held all of his food in separate compartments (for a pure bargain).

Silver eyes flickered over to green as Harry continued to nonchalantly eat his food, not even pausing as he glanced around at the people filing past him. "International wizards are a lot more interesting than the British ones…" He noted, looking at their (usually) beautiful cloaks and garments. "They dress better than we do." He noted.

Hermione blinked, "In their counties they dress just as differently as we do in ours." She explained, watching as Lucius and Arthur exchanged thinly veiled insults, "I know that American wizards are the only ones who share similar fashions, besides the Japanese, as their muggles." She stated, "Which I find fascinating, because they still have a little bad blood between them after Pearl Harbor but have put it aside to work together. I'm willing to bet the magical communities formed an alliance at the same time the muggle one did and that they had cultural diffusion!" She rambled, but Harry only smiled as she turned back to resume her conversation with Ginny.

He blinked as he felt eyes on him and met the icy blue of Narcissa Malfoy, her platinum hair pulled back elegantly, it was easy to tell she was a relative of some sort to his godfather, they had similar eye shape and facial structures, though hers were a lot more feminine. They might have been cousins. She regarded him with the eyes of a bird of prey. Harry watched her with (unknown to him) the eyes of a stalking predator. He intently noted all movements and facial twitches and was able to discern that he was making her nervous.

This was good, if he could unnerve a pure-blooded matriarch of the Malfoy house who was originally of the Black Family, then that meant that he had no need to truly worry about anybody who thought they might be able to move him with a stare down like she had tried to do. It had been a well-practiced move on the woman's part, but she had not had a plan for the case that someone did not divert eye contact or submit. Meaning that she was used to staring down all opponents and winning; if all pure-bloods were exactly like this, then dealing with them was a non-issue.

* * *

Draco was a little freaked when his mother adverted her eyes but understood why. Potter had an animalistic quality in his eyes that was strange and had them all on edge. The Weasleys did not notice for the most part; although the Curse Breaker and the Dragon Tamer were both aware of the change, or perhaps knew that one had happened over the course of the summer. It was hard to tell just what had happened, at least until his mother told him when they walked away, the Boy-Who-Lived still eating that outrageous amount of food. Draco caught the sight of slightly pronounced canines. Something had definitely happened.

"He's on his way to becoming an animagus." Narcissa noted to her husband, watching in veiled amusement as his eyebrows rose dangerously close to his hair line. "He has pronounced canines and an animalistic quality that was present in Sirius and the Marauders right before they changed." She relayed.

Lucius tilted his head, "Yes… I remember James Potter being sick for a week around when you told me that there was something different about that estranged convict-cousin of yours." He stated, smirking lightly, "He must be following his godfather's footsteps, or his fathers." The older blonde man tilted his head, "I remember someone asking me why they called him Prongs… I guess we now know."

Draco was reeling from the information, but didn't let it show just as every Pure-blooded heir was taught to do. He filed it away as they approached the top box; the Weasleys and Potter were already seated, although the black haired teen was still eating his sushi. He was relaying something to Hermione as he sat.

"-just appeared out of nowhere and after Uncle Vernon nearly busted that vein on his temple, let me come." Harry looked over at Hermione, "It was odd, I thought for sure that Mr. Weasley would come get me, and I'm pretty sure he was there when I came down and cooked breakfast for my relatives." Hermione looked disgusted, "He thought it was for me until the whales of the household went and turned into fat race-horses in order to see who could get the widest the fastest."

Harry derived some amusement from the frizzy haired bookworm's look of disgust before she turned away when Ginny began explaining the statistics of Quidditch to her. Cat-like green eyes surveyed the field and he found that he didn't need the Omnioculars that Ron was using to see the game, though that might be the new glasses that Sirius had gotten him, but even then Harry found that he was getting along fantastically well without the round glasses that often caused him to have to squint. It was nice.

Draco observed from out of the corner of his eyes, but as the black-haired teen leaned back and began to watch as Ludo Bagman (a man that often schmoozed the Minister more than Lucius did) began to announce the arrival of the team's mascots onto the field. Draco had to admit that the Veela were devastatingly beautiful, though the Malfoy's had Veela bred into the line throughout the centuries and thus he was immune to their otherwise distracting beauty.

Strangely enough, Potter was also immune; he watched them with a detached interest. As though they were only something new and shiny to study before he moved on. Draco knew that he didn't have enough Veela to stop hearts upon first sight; it was usually after exposure that caused it. Weasley and Granger always got flustered so easily because of that part of his magic that permeated the area around him. Draco found that Harry stopped getting so easily flustered precisely one month before they boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of the term.

It was on that day that Draco knew something had changed, and with the new information that his mother had provided him readily, he now knew that it was because the savior was on his way to becoming and animagi. His animal, the buried one that everyone had, must combat the Veela magic (however slight it may be) with its instincts that were projected through Potter. It was why McGonagall was never fooled by him, Snape had the excuse of being a master Occlumense and therefore rendered immune to any magic that even slightly affected his mind.

This was really just a killjoy. He remembered the black haired half-blood used to get so temperamental before he became silent; he watched and traded well-barbed insults as though it were second nature. Or he allowed the Otter and the Weasel to battle for him. Draco continued to brood (attractively, of course) as he awaited for the commentator to begin the match.

* * *

Harry soon lost interest in the match when it became clear that Ireland was going to win even if Bulgaria did manage to catch the snitch. While an excellent Seeker was a good way to win, it wasn't enough. The Snitches were very finicky and if they didn't show until a large lead was accumulated, your team was fucked. This was why a balanced team (such as Ireland) was such a tough match against Bulgaria (who relied a little too much on their Seeker Krum). It was also because Harry had been playing for three years and knew exactly how the match was going to play out that he retreated into his mind to gain a closer connection with his animal.

He didn't yet know what exactly it was. For all he knew, it could be a moose (which would be some sort of morbidly twisted irony, but Moose didn't really eat fish). All he caught was a glimpse of glaring eyes and a large moor filled with rocks that were blanketed in pure white snow like the ground before he was forced out with a jump as Krum caught the snitch, ending the game. Bagman was finishing the last vestiges of the commentating before he sighed and cancelled the senorus charm.

Harry himself continued to eat his fish as they all filed out, heading out to their tents. As they left, Harry peered over his shoulder, watching as three platinum blondes made their way through the crowds behind them before stopping at a decorated green and silver tent with black accents. How very slytherin. He looked forward again as they made it back to the tent with no problems and began to settle in.

He was starting to wonder if the world had any manners, why couldn't he just go through one five-hour meditation session (he was so close to finding out his animal) without getting jolted out of it by someone. What the hell had he ever done to the world to make it hate him with such a passion? He wondered if it was because of the fish… and then shook his head. It was just one week before the start of school, something weird always happened one week before school (Hagrid appearing with all the letters, Dobby appearing in his bedroom, blowing up his Aunt Marge). He shouldn't have expected this year to go any more different than the last three had gone.

The screams of Ireland's victory parties that had been going on all throughout the campsites along the moor had been changed to terror filled hollering and screeches of fear as some party of Death Eaters decided to be the evening party crashers. Harry was immediately dragged off by Hermione but was separated in the confusion and wound up near a forest.

Harry could hear his blood pumping through his ears as he dashed through the trees, his wand was gone, and it had either been dropped or stolen but he'd have to alert Mr. Weasley after they found one another. A curse sizzled past his ear in flash of teal, slamming into the tree he had been passing and burning through it like acid. He had turned just to catch a boot to his chest and was propelled into a clearing. He struggled to breathe as he leaned forward, arm around his chest.

**_"Release me!" _**A rumbling voice filled through his mind, he hardly reacted as a wand was placed against his throat as pain lanced through his being, his magic fluctuating through his body as some slashing curse cut its way across his chest, leaving him hissing. **_"You foolish boy, release me!" _**His bones popped and furs sprouted out of his skin at rapid fire as he dropped to all fours. His spine and nails lengthened while legs bent in a way he never knew was possible. His ears rearranged themselves at the top of his head as his teeth sharpened and his face flattened somewhat, snarling at the now taller human.

A deep growl rumbled in his throat as he lashed out, circling his new prey. A large fluffy tail lashed fiercely as he lunged, claws ripping through flesh and tearing the wand out of the Death Eaters grip. Acidic green eyes peered down imperiously at the whimpering human as Harry sat back on his haunches. "_I ought to kill you." _He stated, black lips peeling back to reveal large teeth. Instead he looked at the regular looking wand.

It was a dark black and well-kept, abnormally long at sixteen inches and had a shape that suggested Unicorn Hair. A large white paw stepped on it. Harry didn't get very far past the basics of wand lore in the book he read, but he regretted just snapping the wand when the active core singed his foot, causing a yelp of pain to leap from his throat before a growl of a predator chased the pain away.

The man had long since run off and Harry considered giving chase but a new scent caught his attention. A drawling blonde appeared from the tree line and Harry gave serious thought to mauling him as an unsavory expression crawled its way on the blonde's face. Harry lunged, pinning the elder beneath him and leaning in to snarl.

"Well, well, well, Potty… cat got your tongue?"

Harry had to stop himself from eating the infuriating shit right then and there just for that terrible pun. Really, Malfoy needed to sharpen his wit a little bit.


End file.
